Coffee With Steve
by 8belles
Summary: An anthology post Endgame PRE SM:FFH (Ch 1-6. #7 is post). Bucky and Steve are living in the Avengers Tower. Steve is actually 99 years old now. Bucky is mid-30's. They have a lot to catch up on over coffee before Time takes Steve home. Many Avenger characters, flashbacks, dialogue I wished were in the films.
1. Prologue

"Mrs. Stark… I mean Pepper…. I really… this is too much." Bucky shuffled his feet nervously feeling like he was a small boy in grade school with the nuns again. The morning light streamed through the massive windows of the Avengers Tower in New York City. People below were busy turning the clock back on five years of neglect.

"Bucky don't be ridiculous. You have nowhere to stay and honestly, if Steve is here, you should be too." Pepper's eyes were red rimmed but kind. She had valiantly soldiered on after Tony's death just like he knew she would and certainly could.

"Well, you know our history and it just wouldn't feel right." Bucky continued glancing away from her honest face.

She smiled compassionately. Tony had let her know years ago what the Winter Soldier had done to his parents. Then came the rift between Steve and Tony, and then came Thanos. With a blink over sandpaper eyes from lack of sleep she replied, "James, if Tony made good with Steve, that means he made good with you." She put out her hands and took Bucky's in hers, "And I am saying it's fine. Wakanda was good to you."

Barnes exhaled nervously. "Thanks."

Pepper let his hands go with a chuckle, "And I need you to keep Steve out of trouble."

"I may be 99 years old, but I can still hear." The wizened voice of Steve came from around the corner of the spacious family room of the Avengers Tower in New York City. The now frail man moved carefully like he would fracture, his robot enabled walker glided along, monitoring his every move, ready to catch him. Morgan had decorated the walker with red white and blue paper streamers and put a large white star on the front, like a headlight. Bucky's heart hurt every time he saw Steve. They had discussed his plans with the stones and Barnes encouraged him, even agreed with him, but it still was painful to see.

"Funny, I never recalled you coming to inspection on time before mess hall."

"Different motivation." Steve replied; his eyes still mischievous.

"Well, I'll leave you two to discuss how you want to set up shop here. I need to get Morgan to the nanny." Pepper looked graciously at the two men, who seemed oddly juxtaposed and said over her shoulder as she walked to the elevator, "Friday, whatever these gentlemen want or need, see that it gets done."

"Yes, Boss." came the disembodied brogue of Friday. Steve frowned slightly as Friday called Pepper 'Boss'. It reinforced the obvious; Tony was gone.

The two men looked at the floor, heads dipped in a gesture of respect, then at each other. "So, what do you want to do?" Bucky asked the aged Rogers.

"Let's have some coffee and catch up." Steve replied and shuffled off to the kitchen.

"That sounds perfect."


	2. Time Bites Back

Steve took a seat gingerly as Bucky prepared two cups of black coffee, the steam rising with a tantalizing aroma. Bucky tried not to stare at his best friend as he carefully maneuvered from his walker to a chair, picking his way gingerly, balancing his weight on unsteady legs.

"I know you're watching. You always do."

Bucky cleared his throat in a bit of surprise looping his fingers through the cups, "Well, just yesterday you were thirty. And it seems no matter what I'm doomed to be your nursemaid for life."

"We discussed this. It was your idea."

"Yeah. But it still throws me off." He handed Steve a cup of coffee.

Steve took the cup in timeworn hands, his knuckles swollen and age spots dotting his skin. Bucky sat down fluidly across the table from him, a mixed look of happiness with sadness conflicting with each other. Steve's eyes were clear though and he saw every bit of struggle in Barnes' face.

Rogers took a deep breath, looking gently at his friend, "If it helps any, I did help you… or _him_… in the other timeline. I just couldn't let you go through that again even if it was in some other timeline that was going to vanish once I set the stones back. You were my best man." Steve rubbed the gold band on his hand absently.

Bucky didn't expect to find that so moving. Suddenly, moisture began to pool in his eyes. He blinked and looked away, absently wiping his nose with a hand and then sipping the scalding coffee. The pain of the liquid refocused his thoughts.

"You did, eh? Was I grateful?"

"Once I explained what you went through here, your doppelgänger was beyond grateful. To a fault really. That is what made me want to come back to you even more."

Barnes stared at him, incredulous. "But what about Peggy?"

"Once you were discharged from the army, and your other-self thanked me innumerable times, you moved on. I didn't see you again. It wasn't you, Buck. I had Peggy, and this beautiful life but I didn't have the real you."

Barnes shook his head in understanding and took another sip. "Wow. Not sure what to say to that."

"Even when I had nothing, I still had you."

Barnes looked past the aged gaze of Steve to the windows trying to lighten the moment a bit. "So, tell me about your other life."

Steve smirked, "You think I'm going to spill the beans on that?"

"Did you ever tell Peggy she wasn't your real one?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Why burden her with the knowledge she wasn't the true Peggy I buried here. It was my fantasy in flesh and blood. I didn't want to cause her pain because while she was real, she wasn't… real."

Barnes sat there for a moment and chewed on that. Then it hit him like a ton of bricks, Steve had destroyed a whole parallel universe with the stones. He had used it and discarded it when the other-Peggy had passed away from old age, her being none the wiser.

"That is something."

"Yeah." Steve's eyes became sad and troubled.

"But it was worth it."

"Yes and no."

"C'mon Steve, you can't beat yourself up about it. You earned it, remember. I can't think of anyone more selfless than you. They didn't… suffer."

"But I still did it." The pain in Roger's eyes was palpable.

Bucky's own words came back to him like bullets. He looked down at his cup that reflected his face in the black liquid. Hydra made him do things he didn't want to do and couldn't stop them. But Steve had chosen to at his insistence to go back and get his reward.

"When you play with time, it sometimes comes back on you." Steve added quietly remembering Starks' words to him.

"It sure does."

Bucky and Steve sat quietly and drank their coffee.


	3. Not Captain Anymore

"What shall we talk about today?" Steve asked, settling his now ancient bones in the chair at the kitchen table.

"How about 'did you take all your pills'?"

"Very funny. Smart ass." Steve quipped thinking he'd like a Tylenol. His joints were awfully stiff these days.

"There you are, Captain America- always telling the truth. A regular George Washington you are. And I'll take smart ass because America's ass is already claimed." Bucky smiled slyly.

"That title does not belong to me anymore." There was no regret in Steve's voice as he ignored the second jab because it made him think about Tony.

Bucky thought for a moment about that fact. His silence concerned Steve.

"Second thoughts?"

Bucky flashed his eyes at Rogers quickly, "Hell no."

"Why the long face then."

"I'm still adjusting. Since Shuri fixed me, I've lost a lot of 'normal' time and the last time I was sane, I saw you in that uniform. It still surprises me from time to time."

Rogers smiled a wise smile, "That's why I stole it from the Smithsonian. I wanted you to remember."

"Well, it damn near got you killed."

"But you didn't. And here we are." Rogers lifted the cup to his lips.

"Sam is a good guy." Bucky said seriously then lightened up, "A real jerk, but a good guy."

"You know that sounds ridiculous."

"Well, so is he."

Steve looked at Bucky, mirth pulling at the corners of his mouth. Rogers knew once he was gone, Sam and Bucky would become fast friends. Bucky wouldn't be alone in this modern world and that warmed his suddenly old heart.

As if Bucky was reading his thoughts he volunteered, "I guess I'll have to get along with him, eventually. He's a lot like you, but more sensible."

Steve laughed a dry chuckle. "More sensible?"

"He doesn't jump out of airplanes without a parachute, dumbass."

Steve looked affronted, "He has wings, Buck."

"And he used them, unlike you with your blatant disregard for your own safety."

"Ok. Fine." Steve returned, "As Peter says… 'Whatevs'"

Bucky made face of disgust. "Kids these days."

"Hmmm." Rogers hummed into his coffee in agreement.


	4. Soul-less Stones

Steve sat in the predawn hours of New York. The lights of the city spread out before him, where they had been dark before. In his hands were some fun, more light hearted photos that Romanov had printed out for him from the days when were hunting Bucky.

"_I want you to have these." She handed them over in an envelope. _

_Steve looked at her quizzically, "Why not email them to me… or what is that new thing; store them in a Cloud?" _

_Romanov smiled, a laugh in her eyes, "Because you're too old to know how those things work, Rogers and I don't have the time to explain it to you."_

"_Thanks for having such sympathy for me." His tone dripped in sarcasm. _

"_That's what friends are for." She laughed and walked away, red hair swinging. _

"You ok?" Bucky's voice came from the darkness behind him.

"Yeah." Steve's voice was soft.

Barnes walked silently over to the table where Steve sat. "Whatcha looking at?"

"Memories." He handed the stack of photos over to Barnes.

Bucky's breath caught in his throat at the sight of her red hair. He put a hand to his mouth to try to conceal his feelings.

"I couldn't get her back."

"That's not your fault."

Steve's face was pale in the dim light, his eyes dark like flinty coal, "You know who guards the Soul Stone?"

Barnes waited, perplexed by Rogers' cold display.

"Schmidt."

Bucky's jaw dropped and he nearly fell out of his chair. "Red Skull?!" he sputtered, half enraged, half shocked.

"The same."

"How in the …. What the hell?"

"I'd like some coffee… you up for some?"

The shaken Barnes grasped at the distraction, "Sure. I'll get it." He rose from the table and prepped the drink for both of them.

Steve began the story, "When I was on the _Valkyrie,_ fighting off Schmidt and his doomsday plot, the tesseract was onboard. He and I fought over it and he grabbed it in his bare hands. It vaporized him. I figured he was a gonner. Apparently not."

Barnes brought back two cups. "What kind of … punishment is that for all the horrible things… "

"Voromir is no picnic, but I guess everything in Sunday school they taught us was wrong." Steve said sarcastically. "A lot of what I believed back then is wrong."

Bucky looked at his best friend seriously, "What did he say to you?"

Steve inhaled a rattled breath that reminded Bucky of his pneumonia days. "He looked at me almost as if he was glad to see me, as if I was finally a familiar face from those days past that has just become a distant time ago." He paused, frowning in thought. It seemed a lot of his thoughts jumbled these days. "I was shocked of course. It was like seeing the dead risen and walking. "

"_Steven Rogers." Red Skull said, floating backwards slightly in surprise. _

"_What the hell are you doing alive!?" Cap spat out, shield ready, the case of stones behind him. _

"_I would not exactly call this 'alive', Captain Rogers." The Skull's tone was darkly droll. _

"_Well I'd like to think I offed you 70 years ago." Steve growled preparing for battle with the specter. "I think you may deserve a second dying."_

_The Skull frowned over his bony orbits, the red deepening in the creases, "Although you may think I deserve a fate worse, allow me to say that the Universe has made me pay dearly for all my wickedness."_

"_I find that hard to believe." _

"_I have stood guard here for millennia, Captain Rogers. I have guided many to that which they cannot have, just as I craved what I could not have on Earth. I have seen the folly of my thoughts and ambitions played out here over and over for longer than you can imagine. It is my cruel fate to witness what cannot be easily obtained without great true sacrifice."_

"_Pardon me if I find it hard to sympathize with you."_

"_I do not expect you to." The Skull floated almost serenely, "Because I have learned much in my time here and I am, regretful to say, sad I cannot give you what you seek."_

"_How do you know what I want?" Rogers grit his teeth angrily every muscle in his body tight. _

"_You want what all who seek the stone want."_

"_Enlighten me."_

"_You want life." His tone was deeply sad, which surprised Steve, but he was correct. "And I cannot give it to you. The price of the stone is high, and it has been paid."_

"_I have the stone. It's a fair trade!" Steve yelled._

"_I cannot undo what has been done." The Skull replied simply. _

"_It's not fair! She gave her life for us and we won! We WON!" Rogers dropped the case and charged the phantasm with his shield held in attack position. _

_The Skull vaporized and then reappeared a few feet away, "Captain Rogers, please. I cannot. There are forces here I cannot and do not control. I cannot disobey them."_

_Steve panted in frustration, then thought carefully, "What if I released you with the stone, Schmidt." The Red Skull looked shocked at the proposal. "You give me back Natasha and I set you free. Think about it. You can leave here, find rest and peace." _

_The Skull's brows beetled again, "As tempting as that is, Captain Rogers, I cannot. I do not possess a soul to give. I have already given it."_

"_So that is your punishment for all the hell you did on Earth. You weren't soulless then but you sure as hell are now, you son of a bitch." Steve growled, his temper rising again. _

_The Skull said nothing. _

_Frustrated, he walked to the case, opened and pulled out the yellow gem that glowed faintly. The Skull seemed even sadder to see it again in his possession. "Here you piece of crap. Keep this dammed thing. Natasha deserved better than dying here. She deserved more than you'll ever know in a thousand lifetimes on any planet in this whole universe. She was more than you ever though you could be, now or ever."_

"_You are certainly right, Captain."_

_Steve didn't expect that humble reply. _

"_Her gift was out of love. Not greed, not pride or lust but love. Her love was almost blinding and beautiful. The best kind of love. I have not seen its equal ever. She was a powerful woman."_

_Rogers felt his jaw clench and tears threatening at the unexpected eulogy from the most unlikely of people to give it. "Yes she was."_

"Then there was a thunderclap and I was at the bottom of the mountain in a lake. I don't know how I got there but I did, and Schmidt was nowhere to be seen."

Bucky said motionless hanging on every word.

"I just wish I could have brought her back." Rogers looked down at his hands as if they were the most useless things in the world.

"She understands." Bucky sniffed, a few tears moistening his eyes. "She does."

"I hope so." Rogers looked at him in pain. "I hope so."


	5. The Ones We Love

"Let's go stretch those legs." Bucky said cheerfully as he wheeled Steve around to the elevator of the Avengers Tower.

"You mean yours."

"Semantics, Rogers." Bucky commented and tried not to be overwhelmed by the fact he was pushing his best friend in a wheelchair because he was too old and infirm to walk.

"Where are we off to?"

"A new place that is supposed to have some great joe."

"Why can't we have some here?" Steve sounded a bit piqued.

"Why shouldn't we get outside and enjoy a wonderful day?" Bucky again reminded how many 'wonderful' days did Steve have left? The doctors all said that he had impeccable health for his age and despite what he'd been through, he was doing well.

Rogers kept quiet as they entered the elevator car and descended to the ground floor.

Bucky pushed Steve along the sidewalk, the sun glinting in hard angles through the tall buildings that made shadowy canyons. There was a breeze ruffling their hair and the honk of the returned taxi's punctuated the sound of their footsteps. It sounded and looked just the way it was supposed to; New York city and upper Manhattan, full of life.

The coffee shop was not far, and Barnes reached with his metal hand to pull the door to open while maintaining a firm grip on the wheelchair. Finally, someone from inside noticed the struggle and held the door for them.

"Thanks." Steve said quietly as they passed inside. Bucky nodded.

"Hey, aren't you Avengers?" the middle aged man holding the door asked.

"Well, he is." Bucky smiled down at Steve.

"Was."

"Always will be." Bucky finished. Steve cut his eyes up from his chair.

The man asked for a photo and thanked them for their help in restoring the city to the way it used to be. He had been one of the dusted and he was grateful for the second chance to be with his loved ones.

"You're welcome." Steve smiled up from his wheelchair and the man passed out the doorway to the street, a cheerful expression on his face.

"It's been kinda weird since we came back." Barnes mentioned after he secured two cups of coffee from the barista.

"Weird seems to be our way of existing lately. Be more specific." Steve stated dryly.

"It seems everyone has a smile on their face. The level of gratefulness is more than it used to be." Barnes observed as he locked Steve's chair in place.

"I guess people finally figured out what is really important." Rogers mused as Bucky sat across from him. The coffee shop reminded him of the diners of his youth and his recent time travel.

"Time." Bucky sipped his coffee from the old cup, "Time and the people who are important to you."

Steve smiled genuinely, then the expression dropped from his face as he looked over Bucky's shoulder. Barnes sat up in alarm, thinking something was horribly wrong, and with a swift turn, looked up at the face of Sharon Carter.

"Hello, boys." she said softly with a tilt to her head, her blond hair swinging over her shoulder.

"Hello, Sharon." Steve replied, a hurt look in his eyes.

"Can I join you? It's been forever."

The significance of 'forever' was not lost on Steve. "Sure. Buck, make some room."

Barnes stood up and moved his chair to the long side of the rectangular table. He leaned to grab a vacant seat, but Carter beat him to it and sat down, her own coffee steaming, black.

"I don't think we've really truly met, Sargent Barnes." Sharon extended a hand.

Bucky swallowed, "It's Bucky. Thanks. Pleased." He took her hand and shook it firmly. Steve glanced between the two of them. Barnes continued, "Thanks for your help getting me out of that mess a while back."

"You're welcome. That _was _a while ago. Seems like a lifetime." Sharon smiled sweetly at Barnes then turned to Steve, a look of pity in her eyes. "Before you get too uncomfortable, Steve, I wanted to say thank you."

"For what?" he asked, the wrinkles of his face making him looked uneasy.

"I was dust. You brought me back. That means a lot to me. You know, being alive and all. And I have a job again, which is nice." She chuckled good-naturedly.

"It was nothing." Steve replied with half a smile. Barnes watched them carefully.

"How was Aunt Peggy?" she asked earnestly, her brown eyes full of emotion.

The question caught Steve off guard, and he sat back from the table, his wheelchair rocking slightly on the locked wheels. Bucky bristled subliminally, his arm plates under his coat chattering.

"She was fine." was all Steve could muster from his aged throat.

Sharon blinked self-consciously, realizing she was making him feel awkward, "I'm sorry, Steve. I… miss her." She glanced at Bucky who was staring at her in warning, "And besides the whole aunt/niece thing between us, I just wanted to make sure she got a chance to be happy. And you too."

Steve was quiet for a moment then spoke gently, "We were."

Sharon reached out and touched his elderly hand, holding it with a gentle squeeze, her eyes tender with memories of both him and her aunt Peggy. "I'm glad for that, Steve. You two really deserved each other, truly." Glancing at her watch, she gazed toward the door of the shop. In walked a handsome man in a dark suit, removing his aviator glasses. Sharon's smile lit up the room. "Steve, I gotta go. Sorry this was so short. We should do this again soon." She leaned in quickly and placed a gentle kiss on his weathered cheek. Pulling back, she looked at Barnes, "Nice to meet you, Bucky."

"Yeah." Steve commented as she let go of his hand and saw her meet the young man, obviously another S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

Bucky and Steve said nothing as Sharon and her new beau left the shop. The chatter of the coffee house filled the air for several minutes.

"You ok?" Bucky finally spoke when she had been gone for several minutes.

Steve took a breath and sighed. "Yeah. I feel like a heel though."

"Understandable. But also think about it, you didn't really know you'd get a chance for a do-over. You were just moving on with your life." Barnes explained.

"Still doesn't feel right. I feel like some creepy old man."

"You are old." Barnes quipped. Steve shot him a look.

"You know what I mean."

"Sure. But it looks like she moved on too. I wouldn't give it any more thought than necessary, which is none."

"Punk."

"Jerk."


	6. We Were Young Once

Chapter 6: We Were Young Once

Parker tossed and turned in his bed. It the same dreams of Tony, Thanos and the battle that took him away. With an exasperated groan he turned onto his side and cracked an eye at the clock; 4:00 am.

Sitting up, he ground his eyes with the heels of his hands and sighed. Bands of tension strapped themselves across his shoulders like the bindings to a backpack filled with so many emotions. Slumped forward, hands on his knees, he knew there was one, maybe two people who could help him process his feelings.

The air was refreshingly crisp in the pre-dawn air as he whizzed by buildings from Queens into Manhattan. The great slumbering city was barely awake as he cruised from rooftop to rooftop. The Avenger Tower in sight, he paused on a smaller building and looked all around him. The lights of the bridges, boats in the Hudson, streetlights and the brightest stars twinkled at him merrily like urban Tinkerbelles. The sound of the taxies, trucks and other city noises began to merge into the metropolitan symphony that would lull him to sleep at night. Under his mask, he smiled subconsciously at this cityscape that he loved so dearly and realized he'd help save it and that he would keep helping, just like Tony.

Shaking off his reverie as the darker edges of his thoughts began to threaten again, he turned and made his way to the landing pad on the Avenger Tower. Walking towards the door from the helipad-hangar, the familiar voice of Friday greeted him. "Hello Peter Parker."

Peter jumped a bit. He'd always associate that voice with the last times he and Tony spent together, "Uh, hi Friday." He entered the doors that slid open for him and then stopped, speaking to the air, "Hey, I know it's early and stuff but is… Cap- I mean Steve awake?"

"Not right now, but Bucky is available."

A shiver of cold ran down Parker's spine. He didn't think that Barnes liked him much.

"Uh, ok. Um, Will Steve be up soon?"

There was a pause. "Yes, I am picking up signs that he will awaken."

"Ok. Then can I see them?"

"I will let them know you are here." An elevator door slid open and the button to the main lounge already illuminated. Parker nervously walked towards it.

Peter stepped out the elevator car into the room and saw no one was present. "Hello?" he said nervously. There was no reply. Had Friday lied to him, or was Barnes waiting behind a wall to kill him? "C'mon, Parker. Get yourself together." He chided himself with a nervous laugh and walked into the kitchen area. At the table sat three cups of coffee, steaming hot and black.

Parker tapped into his spidey senses and didn't feel anyone in the room but the coffee puzzled him. Walking around the family room like space, he felt remnants of Tony's presence; the design and layout, choices of photos mounted in silver frames on a long table flanking a wall. Picking one up, he saw everyone's faces, just before he joined forces with the Avengers. Tony was in the center, like he always liked to be, Steve just to his right, Natasha to his left, the rest crowded around them, all smiles. With a gloved hand he gently touched the glass as if trying to make some connection to the image.

"What brings a kid like you all the way across town to some old guys like us before dawn?" a soft weathered voice came to him. "Come to sleep off a bender?"

Parker jumped, almost dropping the frame so deep he was in his contemplation. Hastily, he put the picture down and fidgeted, "Ah, no. Um, Good morning Cap- I mean Steve and… "he swallowed seeing the glowering black shadow behind Rogers pushing his wheel chair, "Mr. Barnes."

Bucky's expression didn't change as he pushed Rogers to the table and locked the wheels of his chair. "It's Bucky. C'mon kid, siddown. Coffee's getting cold."

Parker approached hesitantly, much like a spider afraid of getting squished. "I am so sorry. If this is too early, I can go- really."

"It's ok. I was getting up anyway. Old army habit." Steve smiled, the wrinkles of his face lifting upward.

"More like your prostate and bladder at your stage of life." Barnes groused and sat down next to his best friend. Rogers cut him a look to be more modest. Bucky ignored it.

Peter cautiously pulled out the chair and sat down in front of the third cup. He looked at it sheepishly and back at the two men. "Do you have… milk… or sugar? Or can I get this as a Frappuccino?"

"Kids these days." Barnes growled and got up for milk and sugar.

Steve chuckled, "So you still haven't told us why you're here?"

"Um, yeah. Well, I couldn't sleep."

Bucky put the sugar bowl down with a spoon and a pint of cream on the table, then sat again like a large protective dog next to Steve.

Peter reached out and put several spoonfuls of sugar and made his coffee very pale with cream. The spoon clanked on the china cup dissonantly as he stirred. Barnes frowned, "Like a little coffee with your cream and sugar?"

Parker smiled self-consciously and then took a sip. A wave of surprise flashed over his face.

"Sorry, I like my coffee strong. Old army habit." Barnes smiled wolfishly.

"Not being able to sleep. I can relate to that. What's on your mind." Steve asked as he watched Parker gulp down his sip.

"Well… I keep having dreams- more like nightmares of Titan." Peter began looking at the men and then into his cup, "and I keep seeing… Tony."

Barnes and Rogers's faces darkened in loss.

Peter picked back up, "And I just can't sleep anymore, since I started… this." He waved at his Spider-Man suit. His eyes were bloodshot and pleading for some guidance.

The older men sighed and glanced at each other as if to ask which one was going to relate first. They knew exactly what Peter was feeling and seventy-five plus years didn't change those feelings.

"What you're feeling is totally normal." Steve began, trying not to sound like a PSA. "I don't think I have a solution for what ails you, except to say that I understand."

"It's called PTSD." Bucky added with an unexpectedly kind expression.

"Does it ever get better?" Parker looked between the two men, hopeful.

"Not really." Barnes replied, sipping his coffee.

"Buck, c'mon." Steve chided.

"But it doesn't, Steve. I'm not going to lie to this boy and tell him it's all adventuring and occasionally you get a bump or bruise."

"But you don't have to be so harsh." The reprimand was as strong as Steve could make his voice, which wasn't very.

"I think the truth isn't harsh." Bucky finished and took another sip.

Peter watched the exchange between the two best friends and then cleared his throat, "I really don't mind the truth." He gave a half smile to each, "It's kinda refreshing actually."

"But you're a kid." Steve said reflexively with great weariness as the wisdom he gained from his life suddenly gave him pity on this twenty first century teen.

Peter sat up straighter and narrowed his eyes at that, even though Steve didn't mean it as a dig.

Bucky stepped in, "He didn't mean it that way, Parker. At your age, Steve wanted to join the army just as bad as you want to help New York. The only difference is you didn't ask for your powers, where ol' stars and stripes here couldn't wait to use his."

Rogers nodded.

"And Steve and I have seen a lot of stuff. Horrible, terrible stuff that would make Titan look like a walk in the park. He's only trying to keep you… innocent. We seem to be lacking a lot of that lately."

Parker lowered his eyes and pushed absently at the coffee mug for a moment then looked up again seemingly aged into adulthood, "Guys, I really appreciate the sympathy. I do. I know you have my 'best interests' at heart, but I can take it. I've seen my share of stuff too." His voice was firm and gaze unwavering at the two men. For a second Bucky and Steve thought they saw the shadow of Tony.

Steve looked even more sad and shrunken. Bucky reached out reflexively and put a hand on his shoulder in reassurance. That gesture seemed to perk Steve up slightly.

Rogers took in a shaky breath, "Well then Peter, I only have one bit of advice I can give you."

"What's that?" the serious expression on Parker's face disappeared and he was suddenly a kid again looking for guidance.

"Friends. Get them. Keep them. They are the only way you will survive this." Rogers concluded.

Bucky nodded in agreement.

"But the dreams?"

"You're here now talking to us, right?" Bucky stated. Peter nodded, "Then we're here for you. We understand because we've been there."

"There is no cure-all for this life. The only thing you have are each other." Steve added. Bucky looked at him and Peter could see the hurt in his eyes. Even Peter knew it was a matter of time before Steve was gone.

"But that is what makes it hurt more." Peter said regretfully, gazing out the large panoramic windows of the Tower as the sun began to think of appearing.

"But it also makes it worth more." Bucky responded. "It's part of growing up, as a hero or even just a normal teen. We make friends and sometimes they get hurt or we lose them. We have them and we remember how great they are or were and the time we spent with them. That is what you hold onto day in and out when you're at your lowest point in this life or this job. You use your good memories to crowd out the bad. You reach out and give them a call. You're human, Parker. For crying out loud, cut yourself some slack."

Steve looked at Bucky in surprise. Parker too was giving him a look of disbelief at the unexpected monolog.

"What?" Bucky looked at them slightly annoyed, "I mean no wonder kids these days are all twitchy. They need to relax some." 

"No, that was touching." Steve commented and smiled.

"Yeah. Gotta agree that had all the feels."

"Whatever." Bucky got up, "You guys want something to eat?"

"Ooh yeah." Parker perked up, glancing at his coffee, not having taken another sip, "I'm famished."

"Glad to see that part of the teen years haven't changed." Bucky concluded from the kitchen. Steve gave Parker a smile.

"You're going to be ok. We all are. We were young once."

Peter returned the smile grateful for his friends.


	7. Old Ends, New Begnings

A/N- Set post _Spider Man- Far from Home_. Last Chapter in this anthology.

Just because he was in his nineties and got a partial do-over, didn't mean the nightmares of his real past had stopped.

His favorite recliner is where the elderly Steve liked to sleep. It had been a random offshoot project Tony had started years ago and mothballed trying to deal with his own PTSD insomnia. It never worked for Stark but Steve found it to his liking.

Bucky was in the common kitchen-family room area of the Tower getting ready to make some lunch for the two of them, when he heard the frail scream of terror from Rogers' room. Dropping a spoon to the floor with a loud clang, Bucky was off in a flash to his door. "Steve! You ok?" Barnes rushed in nearly ripping the door from the hinges.

Steve looked like a pale faded rag doll against the voluminous red and gold cradling chair, his hair disheveled and a wild unseeing look in his eyes. Bony, swollen knuckles clutched the arms of the chair as if he would float away into an abyss if he didn't keep his grip. "Hey, Steve. It's me. It's me, Bucky. It's ok." Barnes approached and bent down lower to calmingly smooth his friend's hair back. Slowly, recognition returned to the cloudy blue wrinkled eyes of Rogers.

Rogers feigned a smile of reassurance and mustered a weak, "Thanks."

"Yeah." Barnes responded quietly, his heart breaking, "You ok?"

Rogers slowly released his death grip on the chair and began to take an interest in the room. His voice was reedy and thin, "Dreams."

"Hmm. I hate those." Barnes tried to keep his tone upbeat.

"Thought they'd be gone after my happy ending." Rogers mumbled.

"I guess not." Barnes agreed simply. "Hey, you want to talk about it?"

Steve looked worriedly at Bucky, a ghost of fear in his eyes still, voice a shadow, "Would you mind if I talk to Sam?"

Bucky shifted subconsciously in surprise but understood. "Sure, I'll call him and then clean you up. Lunch is almost on."

"Thanks."

* * *

"Sam, this is Barnes."

"My favorite comrade. What's up?" the friendly bantering voice of Sam Wilson returned.

"Jokes aside, we need you up here at the Tower. Steve had a bad dream and he wants to talk to you about it."

There was temporary silence on the phone followed by a throat clearing. "Is he ok?"

"Yeah. I think… I think he's getting close. This is his tenth episode in about two weeks."

"You know that nightmares and dementia don't necessarily mean he's on his way out." Sam tried to use the weight of science to steady his falling mood and racing heart.

"He's been talking to Peggy and the Commandos."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"I'll be there in twenty."

* * *

Bucky returned to Steve's room. Steve still sitting in the chair, was dozing, his mouth hanging open, eyes moving quickly under alabaster lids veined with blue. Bucky began to think about all the soldiers he'd seen in the same state with a gun or shrapnel wound. Shaking his head, Barnes cleared the image out of his mind and approached.

"Steve."

"No, I don't want to go to PT." the mumbled reply came.

"Steve wake up. Lunch time."

"We haven't finished our hike. Ten more miles." Barnes realized Steve was dreaming he was in basic training.

"C'mon soldier. Lunch." Bucky touched his shoulder lightly.

Suddenly, Steve's arm reached up and grabbed Bucky's wrist in what used to be an iron grip, eyes wide open but vacant. "Where is Bucky?"

Barnes gasped reflexively in surprise and felt his own angry response rise but quickly tamped it down. He toned his voice gentle, "Whoa soldier. It's me, Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes, right here Steve. C'mon, Steven Grant Rogers. Snap out of it."

The grip softened and his hand fell back into his lap as Rogers' eyes refocused. He looked confused.

"It's ok Steve. It's alright. Sam's coming. I have lunch for us. Let's go get you cleaned up and dressed." Bucky tried to say cheerfully but he could feel the tears pricking his eyes that it seemed Steve was starting to walk half in this world and half in the next.

Gently, he raised Steve out of the recliner, into his shower wheel chair and then towards the bathroom. "I am so sorry, Bucky." Steve whispered, finally realizing what he had done.

"It's ok, punk." Barnes got Steve undressed and pushed him into the special half shower/bathtub, locking the wheels in place. "If I was really mad, I'd just give you a cold shower."

Steve smiled a little.

Bucky bathed Steve as gently as an infant, if he had ever had one. In his mind, Bucky was half focused on the way the water flowed over the aged, bony remnants of Steve's body as he washed him, and the fact that this body was his best friend. _I'm going to be all alone soon_, Barnes thought as he rinsed the soap off of Roger's head, making sure the water was not too hot or cold or got in his eyes. An image of Steve in a coffin burst forth like a soap bubble as a few tears slid down Bucky's cheeks. Barnes wiped them away; Steve never noticed.

Steve said nothing but resigned himself to his bath.

* * *

Sam sat at the table, three tomato soups, steam curling, and grilled cheese sandwiches set before him. "Hope you didn't mind me showing myself in." Wilson kept his face neutral as he saw the deteriorated and withered former Captain in the chair. It had been a few weeks since last he saw Steve, and now he agreed on Bucky's assessment of Rogers. Steve's cheekbones stood above hollowed cheeks covered in a light slivery stubble. His clothes hung on him as if he were a wire hanger. Since they had flown back from upstate New York, the nation and world thinking Steve was deceased already, he had aged even faster than Sam anticipated. It was just short of shocking. The call of the shield he was given seemed even more inevitable.

Bucky smiled in welcome at Sam, but then saw the guarded expression on his face as he gauged Steve. The smile faded, and he was glad Rogers couldn't see it. "Thanks for finishing lunch. I know Friday can handle it herself, but she lacks that certain human touch." Bucky commented as he locked the wheels of the chair at the table and putting a napkin at Steve's throat and lap.

"I heard that, Mr. Barnes." Friday intoned, sounding slightly indignant.

Steve looked around in amazement, "Is there a ghost in here?"

Sam and Bucky looked at each other quickly, a shared understanding in their expressions.

"Who wants some lunch?" Sam changed the subject looking at his food. Steve's eyes followed and he seemed to acknowledge the meal.

"Smells great." Steve said, a shaking hand reaching for the spoon. "Bucky, can I get some coffee?"

"Sure." Bucky got up and went to make a pot.

"I'm glad you're here Sam." Steve's voice was almost verging on child-like and tiny in volume.

"Glad to be here, Steve. How are you doing."

"I'm ok. Sleeping a lot. Guess I'm making up for all that lost sleep in the war."

Sam smiled a little, dipping into his soup, "Better late than never. Are you sleeping well?"

"Not really."

"Why not?" Sam began to use his therapists' tone.

"I have dreams. Lots of them. But they seem so real! Some of them are not so nice." Steve looked like a kid who had a fantastic story to tell.

Bucky hung back in the kitchen, listening, worrying.

"Tell me about your dreams." Sam asked.

Rogers took a tiny nibble of his sandwich and chewed on worn teeth so it took him a moment to process the small bite of food. Sam waited patiently.

"Peggy talks to me almost every night." Steve smiled, his eyes more alert, then became sad, "She says she misses me and wants another dance. I buried her and she's coming to talk to me. Why is that?"

"I don't know, Cap." Sam said reflexively.

Rogers' eyes became flinty, "That's not who I am anymore. That is your job."

Sam sat back a bit, "I'm sorry, Steve. I know it's my job. I'm humble you gave it to me."

Steve calmed some and went on, "And I see Bucky falling off the train, but he's right here. It makes no sense. Even Dugan said so."

Wilson nodded, glancing briefly at Bucky as Steve slurped his soup from a trembling spoon.

Bucky came to the table, "Here Steve, let me help you with that."

Rogers's gave Bucky a hard look for a second then softened. Barnes took a full dip and helped to ladle it to Steve's mouth. The men were all silent until Steve said, "I'm full."

"You sure? You only had a bite and a bit of your soup. You know what Mrs. Murchowski would say back in Brooklyn, right?" Bucky chided gently.

"Yeah. I know. But I'm full. She can yell at me in Polish all she wants." Rogers was pouting like a child.

"Ok." Bucky didn't press because that typically on made Rogers more cross and petulant.

"I'm tired." It was alarming how fast Steve looked withered and transparent from such little effort.

The younger men looked between each other and Sam stood up, "Here Steve, let me help you get settled."

Bucky cleared away Steve's plate and let Sam put Steve to bed. He returned a few moments later and sat back down to finish his lunch. Bucky pushed at his food, the savory soup now tasting like dust.

"What is Friday's evaluation?" Sam asked.

"Not good. What she can sense remotely is everything is shutting down slowly." Bucky replied, his eyes downcast.

"This is a first for you, isn't it?" Sam said sympathetically.

"First what?"

"First time you've seen the elderly decline."

Bucky sat and thought for a second and then it did hit him. Death was no stranger; he saw it on the battle field, fast and violent, and was ignorant of it in his Winter Soldier days. People died quickly of diseases in his childhood. There was no slow decline to death that he could recall witnessing. "I guess not."

"It sucks to watch. But it's a fact of life." Sam stated neutrally while chewing. "Wanna talk about it?"

"No. Not really." Bucky replied quietly and ate more because he heard his long-gone mother admonishing him for leaving food on the plate.

Sam left a few hours later after making non-Avenger chat. Bucky liked having someone else to talk to besides Friday. A lot of the others were not assembling elsewhere but didn't come to check in since Tony was gone. Bucky didn't blame them.

* * *

"Sargent James Buchannan Barnes. Wake up."

"My name is Bucky." He grogged to the air and rolled over.

"Bucky, it's Steve. Wake up you punk."

Barnes's eyes shot open and he sat up, suddenly cold with sweat, heart pounding. There was no one in the room with him. Was he dreaming?

"Bucky." Friday's voice came softly in the room, "Bucky. Steve is gone."

"Wait… what?" His brain fogged with what exactly was happening. The clock read 3 am.

"Do you want me to call Sam Wilson?"

"Yeah… Yeah do that." Bucky slipped out of bed and ran to Steve's room, a short distance away.

As the light from the hallway spilled into the room, he could see that Rogers was gone. His skin was ashy and grey, but he looked peaceful and at rest, as if in a good long sleep. Suddenly, Bucky could smell the odor of wool, gun powder and stale beer. An echo of men's voices singing an English drinking song; the tinny plinking of an untuned piano, then it was silent. The magic that was there vanished.

Bucky didn't enter, but slid down the door frame, sobbing into his knees.

The service was somber and small much like Stark's had been. The world already thought Cap was gone, so only the remaining Avengers and a few S.H.I.E.L.D. agents came to bid Steve farewell. Sam watched Bucky carefully, never too far but not too close to the assassin.

After everyone else departed, Sam hung back. Bucky knew he was there all along and what he was doing. "You going to head home?"

"No. I think you could use a friend."

Bucky smirked sadly, "Yeah. I guess so."

"Well you know, I have this new job. And I need a sidekick."

Barnes gave him a fake warning look, "I am no sidekick."

Sam smiled with a chuckle, "I'm well aware. But regardless, I have a new gig. I could use a partner."

"I'll think about it."

"Give me a call, when you're ready." Sam turned and walked away. Bucky stuck his hands in his pockets and then looked at the sky. Steve knew what he was doing and Barnes both loved and hated him for it.

With a sarcastic grin Barnes, still looking skyward, "You get your damn dance and leave me with this guy. Thanks, jerk." Leaving the memorial behind, Bucky felt that Steve was smiling back.


	8. Epilogue

**A/N- After D23, news about Falcon and Winter Soldier came to light. I took that in and saw this as a prequel for that show. Enjoy. **

**Three days after Steve's funeral/Current Day: **

He looked in the mirror at his reflection through the steam on the glass. Short hair spiked in random directions, a few wayward drips of water running down to his eyebrows and threatening his eyes.

Frowning subconsciously, he rubbed a towel roughly over his hair dislodging the moisture. He looked back down into the bowl of the sink, hands gripping the sides tightly, squeezing his own eyes shut as if it would help to block out the reality that Steve was really gone.

"_I'll miss you." _rang back from the woods at Tony's funeral.

"_Don't do anything stupid."_

"_How can I? You're taking it all with you."_

His left hand began to make the porcelain screech in protest under the metal grip. The sound jolted him from his anger and hurt. Bucky looked up sharply, the glass having cleared some. He saw loss, fear and anger in his depths of his eyes. The young man who was not young at all, drifting deserted, with no one to relate to. _Damn you, Steve_, he thought bitterly.

Dressing, he combed his hair neatly with a dab of pomade and his cell phone he texted: "Ready to meet?"

The response came: "Where?"

"The automat down in Brooklyn."

"Is that place still there?"

"We'll find out."

* * *

**Two days after Steve's funeral**:

"Mrs. Stark…" Bucky began to the sympathetic looking Pepper at one of the rare times they actually bumped into each other in the penthouse kitchen. He had circles under his eyes from not sleeping.

She smiled knowingly at his sad expression and reached out for his hands, "It's Pepper, Bucky."

"Yes… Pepper." Barnes shifted his feet uncomfortably noticing how _nice_ it felt to have someone who knew how he felt, "I'm going to move out of the Tower."

Pepper's eyes grew wide in surprise, "Why? This is your home."

A slim smile crinkled his lips, "No, it's your home and the Avengers. I've never been one of them and now that…" he swallowed, "Steve is really gone, there is no reason for me to be here."

"You know you are wanted here, right?" Pepper stated softly.

"Yes, I do, and you've been beyond kind, all things considered." Bucky replied pulling on his manners from the 1940's with this very modern woman, "But it's time for me to go." He disengaged his hands from hers.

"Where will you go?"

With an emptiness that made Pepper's eyes tear, Barnes replied, "I don't know, yet."

* * *

**One day after Steve's Funeral:**

Fogwell's gym was still preserved by the good will of some lawyers and being designated a National Landmark site since the once Captain America had been known to use the facility. Bucky danced and pounded his fists into bag after bag, sand piling up as if a beach had been laid inside. Ten years prior, it was Steven Rogers doing the punching. Barnes came here because it was the last place he could think of where he could let his rage out and no one would see his tears mixing with his sweat.

Just like ten years ago, a tall dark figure watched in the shadows.

Bucky knew he was there, but he didn't care about anything right there except making something hurt worse than him.

Nick Fury watched the man who almost killed him a few years ago, with patience and a touch of reverence. The Russians had done an exquisite job of making the Winter Soldier and although Wakanda cured him, the training was still there in all its deadly glory.

When Bucky couldn't breathe because he had worked himself into a lather, he sat gasping on a collapsed bag, half full of sand, looking as if a bucket of water had been dumped on him.

"Come out." he rasped.

"I didn't mean to pry." Nick approached carefully.

"Did anyway." Barnes growled.

"It's hard."

"You have _no_ idea." Bucky said somberly but didn't look at Nick sitting, arms on his knees, sweat dripping off the tip of his nose, lose tendrils of hair plastered to his temples and forehead.

Fury had a sharp comment for Bucky, but changed his mind, "You're right."

"What do you want?" Bucky was in no mood for polite conversation.

Nick shifted his weight and clasped his hands in front of him. "I understand the shield has been passed to Sam Wilson."

"What's it to you?" Barnes cocked an eye up at the S.H.E.I.L.D. Director feeling suddenly protective of his new friend.

"We may have to postpone his debut as the new Captain."

Bucky grimaced with bitter sarcasm, "Why? Too soon?"

Fury dipped his chin some in respect for the late Steve Rogers. They didn't always see eye to eye, but Nick had always respected Cap for sticking to his beliefs even when they were not popular. "We just had an incident with a young man you may know, in Europe."

"Seems like the kid handled it." Bucky wiped his face with the back of his right hand, the boxing wrappings scraping across his forehead.

"Not as well as you would think. We have some PR to do."

"Now I know why Nat loved you so much." Barnes turned his face upward and gave a feral smile. Nick wasn't sure if that was an insult or compliment.

"If you see Sam, please tell him to keep it down for a bit. We'll be in touch." Fury pivoted on his heel and walked away.

Bucky silently watched him leave not sure if he should be angry for Sam or warn him.

* * *

**Current Day: **

The automat of Bucky and Steve's day was now a quaint coffee shop, local, and part of the rebirth of the Dumbo neighborhood. Bucky walked in and was pleased how much of the original ambiance they had maintained. The person he was meeting was not hard to find.

"You know, a ball cap and sunglasses do not make a great disguise, right?"

"Well, obviously you think a haircut is sufficient." The face of Sam Wilson smiled up from the table he was seated at, a burgundy ball cap on his head and aviator glasses over his eyes. Sam stood up and offered a hand. Bucky took it in a shake, ending it in a brotherly hug.

"What are you drinking?" Bucky asked, taking a seat opposite.

"Something more stimulating that a beer." A waitress approached, "Can I get a cup of coffee for my friend here? Thanks." She nodded and turned away.

"You look good." Sam sounded earnest.

"Thanks. Call it my Greatest Generation fortitude." Bucky smiled slightly.

"I can see you're not sleeping though."

"No, mother hen." Bucky nodded thanks to the waitress as she deposited the cup on the table.

"You ok?"

"Right as rain." Bucky lied.

"I am sure you didn't call me so soon for random banter. I mean, we've had our moments, and all but this really isn't the time."

"Funny, bird man. No. I'm here because I need a place to crash and I have some news."

Sam's eyes widened, "You think you can just call me, have coffee, butter me up and move in?"

"Well, yeah." Bucky's eyes were mischievous, "I hear rent is killer around here."

"Says the man without a job."

"Well, that is where you come in too."

"Do tell." Sam sipped his coffee.

"I figure I'd take you up on that partnership, but I am NO sidekick." Bucky took a sip as well. The strong brew seemed to calm his rough morning.

"_Now _you want to be my partner." Sam sounded droll.

"Whad'ya say?" Bucky asked.

Wilson looked thoughtful, his eyebrows furrowing together, "I'm not sure. You kind of owe me."

"I owe you!?"

"Hmm hmm." Sam drank another sip. "Who saved your ass from T'Challa? That cat is still weird with me." Bucky sat, incredulous, "And… you tried to kick me off a helicarrier. I've never recovered from that. Still have nightmares." Barnes began to crack a smile, then a chuckle. "Made you laugh." Wilson teased.

"That's a yes then?"

"It's a maybe, like a trial period, like lay-away. Do you even know what _that is_ in your ninety-year-old brain?" Sam pointed gently at Barnes, who was still laughing softly.

"Ok. You ready for the news?"

"What? We're under arrest again? Did you see what that Parker kid did? I knew we couldn't trust that boy. What a mess; kids these days."

"Nick talked to me." Sam became still. "He said you can't be Cap yet."

"Was that all?" Wilson was unsmiling.

Bucky looked at him curiously, surprised at Sam's reaction. "Pretty much. He mentioned Parker. Maybe there was more to it than that."

"Good."

"How is that good? We need a new Cap." Bucky was slightly confused.

"I'm not ready for that title." Wilson's voice was soft and solemn.

"You're worthy!" Barnes leaned forward in his chair, beseeching. A part of him wished that Sam would take up the shield and the mantle of Captain America and he could be the partner letting him forget how much he was missing Steve and their friendship. The distraction of missions would give his mind time to forget the magnitude of his loss.

"Are you Thor or something?" he caught Bucky's eyes with a stern look, "I am not ready. I never said I wasn't worthy. That title is a huge responsibility."

Bucky sat back in his chair and looked at the cup of coffee, lightly touching the rim of the cup with his left hand. The Wakandan vibranium alloy was a deep mesmerizing purple.

"I'm sorry." Sam finally said, breaking the silence.

"Sorry for what?" Barnes didn't look at him but continued to stare at the cup vacantly trying to make sense of his feelings. Bucky thought he was going to be ok. Steve and he had talked about this. Why did it hurt so damn much?

"I'm sorry I'm not Steve, for one. I'm sorry I can't be Cap right now and help you forget." Wilson finished.

Barnes looked at Wilson, his eyes dark but grateful for understanding. "It's ok. We'll get through this together."

"Yes. We will." Sam replied, "But as my new roommate, you're washing bathrooms."

Barnes opened his mouth to protest, and Sam laughed as both men realized they were going to be alright.


End file.
